The Perfect Date
by elektralyte
Summary: COMPLETE! Krillen and Eighteen offer to babysit so Marron and Yamcha can have a romantic evening to themselves. Things start going awry for YM while the grandparents' night keeps getting better. Who ends up having the perfect date?
1. WAHHHH!

**The Perfect Date**

By Elektra

_Disclaimer: This story was written for fun and there is no intention of making a profit off of the properties of Toriyama, Funimation, DB/Z/GT, etc. Baby Hancha is a creation of a very wonderful writer, Kinomi._

Rated PG-13

--

Chapter 1

Early on in the summer dusk becomes the best time of the day in Satan City. The aroma of mature flora scents the air as the sun makes its hasty exit. The sky darkens from azure to indigo, taking on the look of a fine watercolor painting as the stars light up one at a time. City lights mimic the burgeoning celestial show, causing the large metropolis to take on an otherworldly, whimsical quality. Lovers stir with anticipation as thoughts turn to the romantic evening that awaits them. All is well. The city is magical. The evening is perfect.

Unless that is, you are Marron Chestnut-Wolf.

Then your evening is about to suck.

Big time.

WAHHHH!

"Shhh! Oh please baby! Don't cry! Shhh. I promise you can cry all night long if you just let me finish what I'm doing right now."

Marron stared pleadingly at the infant in her arms. Hancha stopped crying momentarily and gave his young mother a slightly unfocused look. He seemed to seriously consider her request.

Then he let out another ear piercing wail.

WAHHHH!

Now Marron felt like crying too. She sat on the edge of her bed and felt tears welling up in her eyes.

"What am I doing wrong?" She wailed out loud in frustration. "His diaper is dry and if I nurse him any longer my nipples will fall off! He doesn't want to eat anyway."

Over the sound of her upset child she heard a sharp knocking. "Marron, you're going to be late and Yamcha's been waiting for a while now. I think you better hurry up."

That was it. The sound of her mother's monotone voice caused the normally upbeat blonde to lose it. Now her sobs were mixed in with the baby's. Her son cried even harder in answer to his mother's frustration and now they were both spinning out of control.

The door quietly opened and Eighteen looked in on the pair. "You need to calm down," she helpfully suggested. "He's only responding to your anxiety and as long as you're upset, he'll be upset."

"W-well thank you Dr. Phil," she replied petulantly.

The android let the comment slide as she closed the bedroom door behind her and sat next to her daughter. Then she took her unhappy grandson from his mother's arms and gently rocked him back and forth. The baby miraculously stopped crying. A blissful peace suffused the room, occasionally interrupted by a sniffle or hiccup. And then Eighteen had to go and ruin it.

"Are you going to wear that?"

"Huh? (Sniff) Well yeah. It's all I have Momma . . ." Marron looked down at herself. She was wearing a black, loose fitting cotton dress. "What's wrong with it? S-should I change my shoes?"

"No, honey, you should change the dress. It's unattractive and inappropriate for the restaurant you're dining at tonight. Too casual."

Eighteen immediately regretted her remark when she saw her daughter's bottom lip tremble. In all the years that she lived among humans, she still hadn't got the hang of sensitivity and tact. She scrolled through a list of pre-recorded responses in her head, but found none appropriate to the situation. She decided to wing it instead.

"Look," Eighteen advised, more gently. "Try the blue suit."

"Mom, I-I can't! (Sniff) I'm too fat (Sniff) and it's too tight. (Sniff, sniff) I don't want Y-Yamcha to see me like that."

The android stared at Marron, convinced her daughters brains and good sense had somehow leaked out of her head.

Stroking the girl's hair she replied, "You aren't fat, you're just not toned right now. The pantsuit is tailored to flatter your figure and will complement your skin color and eyes. And you know what? Yamcha already knows what you look like so don't let it bother you."

Unwilling to give in Marron hiccuped, "M-my h-hair's a mess,"

"Clean up your face and comb your hair. You'll look fine. I promise."

Marron started to relax a bit. She observed her mother's handling of her son and asked, "How do you do that?"

Eighteen raised an eyebrow.

"Y-you know, get him to quiet down?" (Sniff)

Eighteen switched Hancha to her other arm then took Marron's hand with her free hand. Marron gasped when she felt a gentle vibration course through her arm.

"Oh! That's amazing! I didn't know you could do that."

Eighteen shrugged and said, "It's good to be an android."

"It feels nice. It's all tingly and stuff," Marron commented with a giggle.

"Your father says that too." She offered dryly.

"Eww," She exclaimed as a large drop of sweat appeared on her forehead. "I didn't want to know that." With that she got up, grabbed the suit out of the closet and headed for the bathroom.

Eighteen watched her daughter close the door behind her. With a small sigh she then held the baby up for inspection. Her eyes glazed over as her brain sifted through data and performed computations. As her eyes scanned her grandson from head to toe, her brain took the information and created a 3-dimensional holographic model. Sifting through stored data, she came up with an another model, that of a small male. After running a comparison analysis of the two, the result came back a 4 percent match. She ran a few more comparisons with different models. The result for a tall female read 1 percent and a smaller female was 5 percent. The last though, was a tall male and it was a 90 percent match.

This time she expelled a longer sigh as her eyes refocused. Speaking out loud she remarked, "You're going to look just like that desert rat, aren't you?"

As if responding to her query, Hancha kicked his legs happily and gurgled. In an unusual display of sentimentality, Eighteen kissed her grandson on the forehead and forgave his minor betrayal.

To pass the time she began analyzing the décor of the couple's room. At least he has good taste,' she noted with approval.

She could tell the interior design was her son-in-law's idea, from the clean lines of the furniture to the subtle pallet of blues and grays. If it were up to Marron, things would be a bit more—pink. She idly wondered how the boys were doing.

The cybernetic grandmother wouldn't be surprised to hear that they were talking about as usual—air cars. Okay, so they had been talking about tournaments and fighters before then, but then it moved on to cars.

"Did you the see new Capsule Car 580z? Those things are sweet!" Krillen got a wistful look in his eye for a second.

"Are you talking turbo or the V64 hydrogen model?"

"Virtual 64 all the way man. In a metallic silver."

"Dude, I don't know," replied Yamcha. "My 500 turbo has more power than that. And it doesn't have all that crappy red appliqué on the rear end."

"Yamcha, my man, you are too picky about design."

"I look at it this way. The 580 has the front end of a Solaron and the back end of a 320 Pulsar. If I wanted that look, I'd just as soon buy the Solaron and save a couple thousand zeni."

"I guess you're right," said Krillen, giving into the point. "Speaking of 500's how's yours?"

"Heh. It's in the shop. It got dinged so I'm having a little body work done."

"Don't tell me you're going in Marron's car?"

"Yeah, well, the station wagon's not too bad."

"Uh uh." Krillen reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a capsule case. He examined the capsules for a moment before pulling out a red one and handing it over to Yamcha.

"Take the Merc."

"Oh, no way Krillen! That thing's too cherry. I can't drive it around."

"Take it." He insisted. "You can't go to Damiano's in the family car."

Yamcha graciously accepted his best friend and father-in-law's offer. In truth, the candy apple red vintage convertible was "sweet".

Marron and Eighteen entered the room just then. "Sorry I took so long Sweetpotato," she whispered in his ear.

Yamcha eyed his wife appreciatively. "No problem, Shortcake. I like that outfit on you."

Marron blushed happily as her mom gave her an I-told-you so look. The two of them said their good-byes and were off to a night of dinner and dancing.

--

45 minutes later, the happy grandparents had put the tiniest Chestnut to bed. They sat down in front of the couch after lowering the lights and putting on jazzy tunes.

"I hope Yamcha remembers to put the car in neutral when idling. The Merc has a timing issue. I'll have him look at it later. Shouldn't be a problem." Krillen then asked, "Do you think they're having fun yet?"

"Maybe, if Marron calms down."

"You weren't that way when you were pregnant."

Eighteen shot her husband an exasperated look. "Of course not. I'm an android. I'm not prone to hormonal imbalances. I wasn't built that way."

"Heh. Okay." Krillen paused a moment before continuing. "I don't suppose you could give an old man a back rub?"

"It depends on how much shopping the old man is willing to do tomorrow."

"You cruel, cruel woman. You drive a hard bargain, but it's a deal. Anywhere you want baby!"

Eighteen crooked her finger at her husband, silently signaling him to scoot over. Krillen eagerly complied.

"Yeah. I'm sure those two are having the time of their lives Eighteen. No need to worry about them." He decided out loud. "Oh, that feels nice. It's all tingly and stuff"

--

Meanwhile, at Damiano's

"Why yes sir, we do have a table for you. One of our reservations was a no show. We'll seat you right away!" Offered the Maitre'd.

Not that the Maitre'd would have cared to know, but the no show reservation was fifteen city blocks away, arms covered in engine grease and apologizing profusely to his disappointed wife.

"I'm sorry baby girl. The car has a timing issue. Maybe we should call it night and try some other time."

Maybe,' thought Marron miserably, it sucks to be me.'

Marron handed Yamcha a baby wipe so that he could clean himself up. He took note of how disappointed his wife was and tried to think of a way to save the evening. As he inspected his hands, he knew that he was no longer presentable for a date. 'At least not for the date we had planned,' he decided as his thoughts coalesced into a new plan.

Yamcha encapsulated the car and put the capsule in a carrying case. Marron glanced at him, questioningly. Yamcha shrugged on his jacket, wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted the two of them through the air.

"Where are we going, Sweetpotato?"

Yamcha gave a small, secretive smile then replied, "You'll see."

Marron wrapped her arms a little tighter around him as they flew toward their secret destination.

TBC

_A/N: Where is Yamcha taking Marron? Will her evening get better, or will it blow as well as suck? Are Krillen and Eighteen going to get it on? Stay tuned next chapter when Krillen asks Eighteen,_

_"Are you ready for another baby?"  
_


	2. Ready for another, baby?

****

The Perfect Date

By Elektra

__

Disclaimer: This story was written for fun and there is no intention of making a profit off of the properties of Toriyama, Funimation, DB/Z/GT, etc. Baby Hancha is a creation of a very wonderful writer, Kinomi.

A/N: Speaking of Kinomi, I'm dedicating this chapter to her for being my first ever reviewer at ff.net! Woohoo! I wasn't even going to post this chapter today but since it's ready, why the heck not?

Rated PG-13

* * *

Chapter 2

Back at the Wolf's apartment the romantic crooning of Barry White could be heard just barely above the caterwauling of a small, Asian, ex-monk.

__

"My darling I

Can't get enough of your luuvbaby

Girl I don't know, I don't know, I don't know whyyy

I can't get enough of your luuv"-1

Krillen croaked over the music. He had his shirt off and was swinging it wildly in a parody of a male exotic dancer. At least Eighteen hoped it was a parody and that Krillen didn't seriously think he was being sexy. Then, Krillen began shaking his groove thing and Eighteen knew he was serious. Oh dear.

When the song ended, Krillen punched in another selection, turned to his wife and in his 'sexiest' voice asked, "are you ready for another, baby?"

The question startled Eighteen for a moment. 'Oh', she thought. 'He wants to sing me another song, not have another baby. He's calling _me_ baby.' Once again Eighteen sifted through her pre-recorded responses. Finding none appropriate for the situation she came up with a reply she hoped was diplomatic and loving.

"Why don't you come over here and keep me company instead, _baby_."

Krillen nearly bounced over to her and the android gave a small sigh of relief. "Just can't get enough of my love, eh baby?" He commented mistaking her sigh for something else.

The blonde android smirked as she snuggled into his arms. "We really shouldn't be doing this you know. We're supposed to be babysitting."

"If Yamcha is even half the man I remember him to be, those two won't be back for a looong time," Krillen replied knowingly. Then he leered at her and asked, "so, baby, you want to find out if I'm half the man I used to be?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Eighteen managed to keep from rolling her eyes because she loved this man dearly. Instead she scrolled through her list of supplied responses and selected, "shut up and kiss me, fool!"

This seemed to work just fine.

* * *

Yamcha and Marron were sitting in the back seat of Krillen's Merc with the top down. The car was parked on a cliff that overlooked the ocean and an idyllic moonrise while a romantic oldies tune played over the cars sound system.

__

Are the stars out tonight

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright

I only have eyes for you dear-2

Yamcha turned his gaze to his young wife's face. She had a dreamy far away expression that was too tempting for him to resist. He leaned in and softly kissed her lips.

No response.

He pulled back and looked at her again. That dreamy faraway look was still there, but with a slight frown added. He snapped his fingers twice in front of her face. She came out of her daze and glanced at him in confusion.

"Stop thinking about the baby!" He demanded, slightly irritated.

"I can't, I've never left him alone this long," she replied.

"Your parents are fine with him. Come on baby girl, this is our 'alone-time'. Let's just think about us, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly, though it was hard. She kept imaging all sorts of disasters and wondered if her parents were able to handle caring for him.

As if reading her mind Yamcha said, "of course they can handle him. They raised you didn't they?"

She gave him a look of skepticism, to which he replied, "look, I bet they had Hancha asleep within thirty minutes of us leaving. Hey, if Krillen's half the man I remember him to be he's probably singing Barry White tunes to your mom and trying to get fresh with her."

"Eww, Yamcha, I don't want to know about that"

"Sorry baby." He stood up and pulled her up with him.

"What are you doing Yamcha?"

"Come on, I love this song. Let's dance." He enveloped her with his ki and they floated above the car while the music played. Somehow they managed to move to the music, literally dancing on air.

__

The moon may be high

But I can't see a thing in the sky

I only have eyes for you

I don't know if we're in a garden

Or on a crowded avenue

You are here and so am I

Maybe millions of people go by

But they all disappear from view

And I only have eyes for you-2

Marron felt like swooning, it was so romantic. Yamcha lowered his head and kissed her once again. This time she responded to him opening her mouth a little and letting him explore. When she felt him easing her jacket open she stopped him.

"Yamcha, here?" she asked, nervously.

"We're alone. No one's here, I could feel their ki if they were," he whispered seductively.

She sighed and took off her jacket and helped him take off his. The jackets fell into the car followed by other pieces of clothing until the two of them hovered over the car clad only in their underclothes.

Yamcha lowered them into the car when he started feeling his concentration slip. 'Nope, don't want to fall right now,' he thought as they made contact with the car's backseat.

Marron straddled his lap and they began kissing again. He was about to reach for her bra when he heard her sneeze.

"Bless you!" They both said at the same time.

"I didn't sneeze!" Marron exclaimed.

"Neither did I!" Yamcha replied.

They both frown at each other. Then someone sneezed again. Startled, they both turned around and looked over the car seat. Something was rustling in the bushes. Marron tried desperately to cover herself with her hands. Yamcha floated above the car menacingly and sparked a ki flare to light up the area.

"Whoever is there, show yourselves before I start blasting!" He growled.

The bushes rustled a bit and three shadows emerged. Marron scooted down lower into the seat to cover her nearly unclothed state. She wasn't scared, just really embarrassed. Yamcha brightened the flare to reveal the culprits, then let out a curse when he saw who they were.

TBC

__

A/N: Will Yamcha lay the smack down on our hidden culprits? How long is Eighteen going to let Krillen think he's sexy? Will Marron's date just keep getting worse, or will things finally start looking up? Stay tuned next time when Yamcha asks Marron,

"Are you ready for another baby?"

1- "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Baby" Music and lyrics by Barry White

2- "I only Have Eyes for You" Covered by The Flamingos, lyrics by Al Dubin, music by Harry Warren


	3. Ready for another, baby? pt2

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The Perfect Date

By Elektra

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Disclaimer: This story was written for fun and there is no intention of making a profit off of the properties of Toriyama, Funimation, DB/Z/GT, etc. Baby Hancha is a creation of a very wonderful writer, Kinomi.

A/N: I'd now like to answer some reviews.

****

Kinomi: Thanks girlfriend! Your support means a lot to me. As for writing the stronger lemony stuff, I usually leave it to the experts (like you) but promise to give it a shot one of these days. You know, for May/Dec.

****

Snoro: Hey, thank you for the enthusiastic review! And here's your update.

****

Krillen#1: Glad you liked the fic so far. I promise to keep it in the realms of PG-13. The "good stuff" is either implied, or left to the imagination of the reader.

Yamcha: See? At all times I keep at least one foot on the floor and both hands above the blankets per FCC regulations! Heh, I can't vouch for Krillen and Eighteen though

Marron: Ewww! Yamcha, you know I don't want to hear about that stuff! (Marron gets up and runs away.)

Yamcha (Taking off after her): Hey! I was just kidding Shortcake! Come back

Rated PG-13. Really.

* * *

Chapter 3

Back at the apartment

"How's Hancha?" Eighteen inquired when her husband returned from baby-checking duty.

"Sleeping like a baby. Because that's what he is a baby. Heh."

This time Eighteen did roll her eyes. Krillen settled down on the little nest of blankets they made for themselves on the living room floor. As they snuggled closer Eighteen could feel Krillen giggling against her.

"What's so funny mister?"

"Nothing"

"Tell me!" she demanded.

"Okay, okay," he acquiesced. "I was wondering, since I lent Yamcha the convertible, if he was going to take Marron to Inspiration Point."

"You're laughing because that desert bandit's taking our daughter to a place called Inspiration Point?" She asked incredulously.

"Ex-bandit, and besides they're married. Anyway, that's what Yamcha and I called it. I think the kids call it Make-out Mountain or Kami's Other Lookout now."

"I still don't see the humor of the situation."

"Well," he drawled. "You see, Master Roshi and Oolong would go there and spy on the couples, the pervs"

"I don't know, I bet they still do that now. They're probably spying the kids right now. Funny huh?" A single drop of sweat rolled Krillen's forehead.

Eighteen stared blankly at him.

"Um, baby, could you scroll through the humor menu please?"

Eighteen did just that. And as a scenario unfolded in her mind like a home movie she conceded that there might be humor in the situation, but only if major ki blasting were involved.

Krillen relaxed when he saw a ghost of a smile begin to form on his wife's lips. 'Cool,' he thought. He'd hate for the evening to be spoiled just when they were getting to the good part.

* * *

"Roshi! Oolong! _Pu'ar?_ What the hell are you doing here?" Yamcha shouted.

"We, er, well," the pig stammered.

"That is to say, um," Roshi supplied.

"They spy on couples who make out here, the pervs!" Pu'ar shouted indignantly.

"Hey, you came with us!" Accused Oolong.

"No, I came to stop you two."

"Every Saturday night?" Roshi accused this time.

"Well, sure. Yeah, sure. I will keep coming until I get you two to stop it. Sure!" The little blue cat stammered.

"You three come here every Saturday night to spy on people? How long have you doing this?" Yamcha demanded.

"Oh, well now let's see," Roshi mused while doing the math. "Since back in the days when you used to bring Bulma suppose."

__

"You spied on me and Bulma!?" Yamcha shrieked.

__

"You brought Bulma here!?" Marron shrieked standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

"Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, that's how I found o-out about the place..." Now it was Yamcha's turn to stammer. He nervously rubbed the back of his head, Goku style.

Marron glared at him in open hostility. "You brought me to a place that you've visited with other women?"

"Um, yeah?"

Somebody started snickering. It was the pig. Both Marron and Yamcha glared daggers at him. Oolong then began out right laughing.

"They-they're wearingunderwear!" He explained between gasping breaths.

Both Marron and Yamcha looked down at themselves. Sure enough, Yamcha had on white boxers with little red hearts and Marron's panties and bra had a similar pattern.

The three misfits were now rolling on the ground laughing their butts off at the unhappy couple. Marron and Yamcha looked at each other and silently tabled their argument in favor of resolving their current predicament.

"How about we really give them something to laugh about?" He asked as he produced a small glowing ball of ki energy.

He dropped it into his wife's hand and pointed his chin towards the three laughing pervs. Marron hopped out of the car to get a better vantagepoint. Then, she chucked the ki-ball at them and watched it give off a satisfying explosion. The three pervs yelped in pain and surprise and started running in circles.

"Are you ready for another, baby?" Yamcha asked descending next to her and holding out his hand.

Marron blinked in surprise at him. 'Baby?' She thought. 'He wants another baby now?'

Then she saw the ki-ball in his out-stretched hand realized she misunderstood the question.

"OH. Okay," she answered, taking it from him. She made another perfect lob at the three.

"Good one Shortcake!"

That one sent the little creeps scurrying away. Yamcha swore he heard Roshi saying something about Marron being a feisty one. He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed to himself.

"Ahem!" Marron said to get his attention.

Yamcha turned around and muttered, "yes dear?"

"So. Do you bring all your girlfriends here?"

Yamcha had the good sense to blush. "Only the ones I wanted to marry."

It was a nice try but it failed miserably.

"Some romantic evening this turned out to be," Marron bitterly spat out.

"Hey, I'm sorry baby girl, I tried my best"

"What? Taking me to your ex-girlfriend's hangout?"

"Okay, that was a mistake," he conceded.

"What about, 'were all alone here baby, I can sense ki?'" She mocked.

"Hey, they were masking their power-levels, how could I" he answered defensively.

"Oh, and what about, 'no problem baby, I can fix any car problem, it shouldn't take long'"

"Hey!" He shouted back because he was angry now too. "I can fix any car problem with the right tools on hand! Your dad's car needs serious repairs!"

"Oh, so now it's my dad's fault" she stated once again in that mocking tone.

"I didn't that say that! Stop twisting my words around, your starting to sound like Bulma!"

Everything went silent. Even the crickets stopped chirping as Yamcha realized what he had just said.

Marron burst into tears and Yamcha instantly regretted every single word he spoke. He was still pissed off though and decided to take it out on a poor rock on the ground. He turned to kick it with all his righteous fury and missed, kicking the car instead.

Both he and Marron watched in horrified silence as the car arced in the sky over the ocean, disappearing into the inky blackness of night. Although Marron couldn't hear it, Yamcha tuned his sensitive hearing toward the direction of where he hoped it would land and waited for a splash. Indeed he did hear it splash some great distance away.

Ironically, that was the furthest the car traveled all evening.

"Way to go, _Yamcha!_" She sang out sarcastically. "There goes our clothes, keys and my dad's favorite car. What are you planning for an encore?"

"Eatbean," he grimaced, obviously in pain.

"Why?" She asked, not understanding.

"ToeI think."

TBC

__

A/N: Yikes! Is Yamcha's toe really broken? Does Eighteen really have to scroll through a humor menu to get jokes, or is Krillen just not as funny as he thinks he is? Stay tuned next time when Yamcha asks Marron,

"It's not your birthday is it?"


	4. It's not your birthday, is it?

****

The Perfect Date

By Elektra

__

Disclaimer: This story was written for fun and there is no intention of making a profit off of the properties of Toriyama, Funimation, DB/Z/GT, etc. Baby Hancha is a creation of a very wonderful writer, Kinomi.

Rated PG-13

* * *

Chapter 4

The flight home was painful, slow and silent. Neither Yamcha nor Marron spoke a word the entire trip. To make matters worse Yamcha had to stop every few miles to take a break. He was tired and his toe was throbbing the whole way.

Finally, they made it home. Yamcha landed on the balcony and set Marron down. She muttered terse, thanks, then knocked on the sliding glass door and called out hello. On the other side they could hear footsteps, giggling, a loud thump and more giggling. It was altogether suspicious.

"It's not your birthday is it?" He asked.

"No," she retorted.

"Is it our anniversary?"

""

"All that movement in there. It sounds like they're setting up a surprise party or something," he answered.

"Yamcha, it's almost midnight, kinda late for a surprise party don't you think?"

"Hey, you never know, they way things are going tonight" He waited for a moment, then pounded on the door. A wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Open up Krillen, we lost the keys okay? We can't get in." he croaked, wanting desperately to get in before he passed out.

There was another rush of movement before the door slid wide open causing his head to spin. When his vision swam back into focus, his worst nightmare played out in front of him.

__

Every woman he ever dated was standing in front of him wearing party hats and shouting "SURPRISE!" They giggled wildly when someone shouted, "Nice shorts, weakling!" It was Vegeta. He was standing next to Bulma who was cackling along with the rest of Yamcha's ex-girlfriends. Strangely enough they all began chanting, "Yam-chaYAM-CHA!"

"YAMCHA!"

Yamcha shook his head wildly for a moment. When he regain his focus there was only Krillen and Eighteen at the door.

'Kami!' He exclaimed to himself. 'The pain must be getting to me if I'm hallucinating that badly.'

The two couples stared at each other, ruminating on the situation before them.

Yamcha noticed his in-laws disheveled appearance and spotted Eighteen surreptitiously stuffing a bra into her back pocket.

'At least somebody got laid during my date,' He mused sardonically.

Eighteen meanwhile, pondered the possible scenarios that could have led the other couple to their near naked, unhappy state. The thought that she might have to hurt her son-in-law for making her daughter unhappy briefly fluttered through her head. She chose to ignore it because Yamcha looked punished enough.

Krillen, for his part, was working through another mystery. 'Why are they wearing matching underwear?' He wondered. 'Maybe it's some new couple's trend. Would Eighteen like hearts? How about yellow duckies? I like yellow duckies.'

Marron just wanted her parents to go so that she could tend to her wounded husband. Then she could yell at him in the privacy of their home.

The foursome stared awkwardly at each other. Krillen eyed the disgruntled looking couple behind the door before clearing his throat. Cautiously he asked, "sohow was your date?"

"Awesome!" "Just great." They answered in sarcastic unison.

Eighteen elbowed Krillen, who was staring in wonder at the two. She made a waving motion, indicating he should step aside. He caught the drift and let them into the apartment.

As Yamcha painfully hobbled into the apartment the other three winced in sympathy on his behalf. Marron especially was overcome by that and guilt. As unhappy as she was with him she hated to see her man in pain. Her anger slowly drained away and was being replaced with worry for him.

Marron really wanted to send here parents away but wasn't sure how without seeming rude. So she asked, "how was Hancha this evening?"

Krillen, eager to latch onto any positive conversational gambit answered, "oh he was great! He's sleeping like a baby! 'Cause that's what he is"

"Ahem!" Eighteen interrupted with a glare.

"Uh, never mind." Krillen stared at the floor for a moment, slightly embarrassed. That's when he noticed an empty bottle of Asahi they had missed in the clean up. He shoved it behind a potted plant and hoped no one noticed.

"We'll be leaving now," Eighteen announced.

"What about my car?" Krillen started to ask. He'd been itching to ask about it for awhile now.

"We're going now, _baby_!" She stated emphatically while shoving him roughly through the apartment and towards the front door.

Eighteen correctly guessed that something was up with the car. She decided it was best to deal with it later but she was going to have to distract her husband from thinking about it. It was an easy enough task, after twenty plus years of marriage the android had developed _Distract Krillen ver 9.5_, a program that could divert his attention for weeks on end. She caught her daughter's relieved glance and acknowledged it with a nod. Then she led her befuddled husband out of the apartment.

Marron closed the front door with a sigh then leaned against it for a moment before fixing her attention on her injured spouse. He had made it to the kitchen. She watched as Yamcha fished a sensu bean out of a compartment in the fridge and ate half of it. Within minutes he was looking healthier.

"How's your toe? Better now?"

"Much. Thanks." He stood on one foot and flexed toe gingerly to demonstrate.

They shared an uneasy silence. The anger had dissipated between the two of them but they were still miles away from being happy with each other. Yamcha decided to break the silence, since he didn't want to go to bed angry.

"How about a beer Shortcake?"

"I think my parents cleaned us out. I saw my dad try to hide an empty bottle," she replied.

Yamcha swore and did a quick fridge check. Sure enough, there was no more beer.

"I can't believe they drank all our beer!" He complained as he leaned against the refrigerator door.

"I can't believe you kicked my dad's car into the ocean!" she shot back.

Rather than rise to the bait, Yamcha laughed and said, "he'll probably kick my butt farther than I kicked the Merc when he finds out!"

"Good thing my mom has a distraction program. It'll keep dad busy for weeks before he notices." She chuckled in turn.

"Your mom has a "Distraction Program?"

"Yeah, among other things," she added. Yamcha raised an eyebrow and Marron giggled at him.

"Can you believe Pu'ar?" she asked, not really wanting to discuss her mother at the moment. "I think he's been living with Roshi and Oolong far too long! What a bad influence they are." She pointed out.

"It could just be curiosity, after all he's a cat. Then again, I had caught him leafing through my magazines once or twice," he explained with a smirk. This amused Marron greatly and caused another giggle fit.

"You know what?" Marron asked as the laughter died down a bit.

"What sweetie?"

"You should have kicked the pig instead." That brought out a fresh bout of merriment and soon both of them were feeling more normal toward each other.

"I'm sorry about how our date went. I wish things had gone differently, that I had done things differently," he said, apologetically.

Marron melted at the gesture. The fault certainly wasn't all his. "I could have kept my cool," she admitted.

Yamcha could sense things were going his way again. He stood up straight and intoned confidentially, "you know, I have a special application of my own."

Marron, exaggerating her intrigue just a bit replied, "really?"

He grasped her hand in his and explained, "its called Make Up v.3.0," Then he brought her fingers to his lips for a gentle kiss. "It's an extension of my favorite program, Make My Wife Happy v1.0."

Marron closed the space between them. "I think it's my favorite now too," she said. Then she kissed him teasingly, wanting to salvage what little of the night they had left. She curled her fingers around his shoulders and pressed her lips harder, more urgently against his.

He responded with an urgency of his own as he slid one arm down to the back of her knees.

"Let's go to bed baby girl."

He lifted her up and carried her to their bedroom. She locked her arms tightly around him tightly and looked into his eyes. The desire she saw in them brought a rush of heat through her body.

"Yamcha," she whispered breathlessly.

Not wanting to let go of her, Yamcha kicked the door open instead. He was 0 for 2 as he once again over did it. The door banged against the wall quite loudly.

He and Marron stood completely still. Yamcha thought he heard a noise and held his breath. After two torturous seconds of silence, he walked her the bed.

"Waaaaaah!"

Yamcha set Marron down at the foot of the bed. They stood there quietly foreheads pressed together, nose-to-nose, eyes closed, listening to the plaintive wail of their little boy.

Yamcha broke contact first and whispered, "I'll see to him, you get some rest. I promise we'll have a better date next time." Then he kissed Marron on the forehead and headed for his son's room.

Marron, standing next to the bed, fell face first into it. She could feel the sheets slightly puff up from her impact. Turning her head she stared at a picture of her and Yamcha on the nightstand next to the bed. They looked so happy she had to smile. As she rolled over on her back, she replayed the events of the evening as if she were watching a home movie. Carefully, she spliced out the bad memories, then began stitching the good ones together.

First, she recalled Yamcha telling her he liked her outfit and how lovely it made her feel. Then, she remembered the rush of excitement as they flew towards their secret destination. She relived the passion of kissing under the moonlight and stars while dancing on air. She remembered the relief she felt after they found a way to laugh at themselves when things went bad. And finally there was the love she felt for Yamcha after he said 'I'm sorry,' and tried to make it up to her. As she drifted off into sleep she replayed her evening with just the good memories.

Yamcha came in a few minutes later and saw his wife sleeping peacefully. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he crawled into bed next to her. Drawing himself up on his elbow and he stared at her face for a moment, contemplating the happy smile there. He yawned, then drew her into his arms and began to drift off himself.

'Maybe,' he decided as he snuggled closer, 'it was a good date after all.'

The End.

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A/N: Heh. I forgot to post this chapter. No wonder I didn't get any reviews! Hopefully, there are still people reading this. Thanx Snoro for reminding me to update. This one's for you! - e

Yamcha: That's it? That's the end? Did we win?

Marron: Win? What do you mean?

Yamcha: It says in the summary, "Who ends up having the perfect date?" Sounds like a contest to me. And I seem to recall us _eventually_ finishing what we started so that means we won, right?

Marron: Yamcha, the name of the story is 'The Perfect Date' not 'Guess Who Got Laid?" By "perfect" they mean who had the most romantic evening.

Yamcha: Are you sure? Because I think men have a different slant on what a 'Perfect Date' might mean. Right little guy?

Hancha: gahh!

Yamcha: See, he agrees.

Marron: (glares menacingly at Yamcha)

Yamcha: Heh. Um. Hey! Are those your parents over there? (shouts across the mall parking lot) Yo Krillen, Eighteen. What's up?

Krillen: Where's my car Yamcha!?

Yamcha: Hey, look at the time! Gotta go home. Nap time for the kid ya know. Bye!

The End, for real.


End file.
